Chapter 7
Ava'POV
The cold from last night's dream still clung to me when I woke up. Avina's quiet cry had been real, a small, choked sound that made my heart pound. I lay in the guest bed, listening. Now, only the deep silence of Dave's parents' big house filled the air. I wanted to run to Avina's room, to ask her what she'd seen, what she'd felt. But I knew it wouldn't help. Her mind had already started to forget, to push away the bad details. Asking her now would only upset her more, and I'd likely get the same blank look and tired shrug. She needed help, but I couldn't give it to her alone, not with her mind putting up a wall.
I needed to talk to someone who understood things beyond what most people could see. I needed my old teacher, Mr. Theron. He had taught me how to understand my strange feelings, how to control my gift, and when to trust my gut. He would know what to do.
I got out of bed and dressed quickly. Downstairs, the house was already awake, but still quiet. I found Avina and Dave in the large, formal dining room, sitting at a long table. Avina looked even paler than yesterday, with dark circles under her eyes. She picked at her food, not really eating.
"Good morning," I said, trying to sound cheerful, though the worry was a heavy weight in my chest.
"Morning, Ava," Dave said, his voice flat. He was watching Avina closely.
Avina looked up and gave a weak smile. "Morning. I didn't sleep well. Another bad dream, I think. My head feels so foggy." She rubbed her temples. "I just remember it was... dark. And I felt really trapped."
My gaze met hers, and for a second, I felt a flicker of the terror she'd experienced. It quickly vanished, replaced by that blank tiredness. Dave cleared his throat, pouring himself more coffee. He seemed annoyed, like Avina's weakness was an inconvenience.
"You really need to rest, honey," he told Avina, his voice softer now. "Maybe you're just stressed from the move." But his eyes, when they met mine, were cold. He knew I didn't believe that.
I needed an excuse to leave. "You know, I just remembered," I said, trying to sound casual, "I actually have a really important appointment back in Pretoria today. Something urgent I completely forgot about. I should probably head back after breakfast, if that's okay."
Dave's eyes, which had been tight with worry about Avina, suddenly looked lighter, almost relieved. He tried to hide it, but I saw it. "Oh, really? That's a shame. We were hoping you'd stay a bit longer." His words were polite, but his body language screamed, *Good, finally.*
"Yes, it's a real pity," I lied. "But I really must go. I'll just gather my things."
As I made my way to the entrance, I heard Dave's voice, low and urgent. He had cornered his father in the grand living room, just off the main hall. They weren't trying to hide their talk much now. My feet slowed down. My senses sharpened.
"Dad, she's having the dreams again," Dave said, his voice a tight whisper, full of worry. "Even here. She woke up screaming last night, almost. Ava's here, too. She's asking questions."
Dave's father, a large shadow in the dim morning light of the living room, let out a soft, dry laugh. It wasn't a happy sound. "Of course, David. It's to be expected." His voice was calm, too calm, like he was talking about the weather. "She's... adjusting. It's part of the process, son. We knew she was sensitive. It's why we chose her."
My heart pounded. *Part of the process? Chose her?* What did that even mean? I wanted to shout, to demand answers.
"But... the nightmares, the crying," Dave pressed, his voice full of real fear now. "She's so tired. And Ava... she notices things, Dad. She has a way of seeing too much. She feels it."
The father's voice dropped, becoming a low, gravelly rumble. "Then make sure the other one doesn't interfere, David. Make sure she leaves. She is a danger to the stability we are building. The less she 'sees,' the better. Avina will settle, in time. Just ensure she rests. Proper rest. We'll send something for her tonight. Just for sleep."
My blood ran cold. "Proper rest"? "Send something for her"? It sounded like they were talking about a fragile object, not my sister. A chill that wasn't from the air conditioning went through me. They knew about the dreams. They weren't surprised. They expected it. And they thought I was a problem.
I didn't wait to hear another word. I felt a sudden, powerful urge to run. I mumbled a quick goodbye to Dave's mother, who seemed pleased to see me go, and practically ran to my car,it had come with his driver. As I drove away from the big, silent house, I glanced in my rearview mirror. Dave stood on the porch, watching me. He didn't wave. His face was unreadable, a puppet on a string, controlled by something I couldn't see, couldn't understand.
My mind replayed the father's words: *"Part of the process. We knew she was sensitive. It's why we chose her."* A cold knot twisted in my stomach. Avina wasn't just in danger; she was trapped in something far bigger, something planned. And her husband and his family were at the heart of it.
I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white. Mr. Theron was my only hope. I needed answers, and I needed them now, before my sister became completely lost in whatever dark "process" they had planned for her.
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End of chapter